Our Love is All We Need to Make it Through
by stilinskihudson
Summary: Can Kurt leave his tragic past behind him in order to make new friends, and perhaps new love? WARNING: This story contains suicide.
1. Chapter 1

***Kurt***

My ears hear the melody before my eyes find the source.

The soft strum of guitar strings, whispering through the crisp fall air, floating around my head, distracting me from what my purpose for coming to the park originally was- to get inspiration for a song I wanted to write. My gaze drifts across the park, trying to find out who was playing the song. The song is one I faintly recognize, somewhere in my head, but I can't quite place it. My boots scuff the crunchy leaves below me, the only sound, other than the guitar playing and the wind rustling loose leaves in the shedding trees.

I stop in my tracks when I spot the musician, quite a distance away, but not so far that I can't take in all the player's features.

Perhaps I have found my inspiration.

The boy is gorgeous, to say the least. The sleeves of his red hoodie are rolled up, his hands caressing the guitar, his fingers gliding skillfully across the strings, his eyes downcast, his long dark eyelashes fluttering each time he blinks, large black glasses brimming his eyes, and his hair black and gelled down, with some in the front up. His back leans against a large rock, his legs out in front of him as he plays. He looks so lost in the music, completely oblivious to the world around him; completely oblivious to _me_ watching him admiringly.

The boy is so beautiful, so unlike any boy I have ever seen. The way his lips are parted, mouthing unspoken words, makes my heart skip a beat, yearning to hear what the boy's voice sounds like. He doesn't look familiar, at least not someone from McKinley High. He looks about my age, so he must be from a nearby school. I let out a long breath, fighting the urge to approach the boy. Who knew how he would react? More so, who knew what _I_ would say to embarrass myself? I tend to not be able to talk to people, or make friends, very easily, let alone very cute guitar playing boys of which I have never seen before.

To my delight, the boy begins to sing, his voice smooth and sexy and something I wish I could listen to all day. I now recognize the song as the boy softly sings the lyrics.

_ White lips, pale face Breathing in snowflakes Burnt lungs, sour taste Lights gone, days end Struggling to pay rent Long nights, strange men And they say, she's in the class A Team Stuck in her daydream Been this way since eighteen But lately, her face seems slowly sinking, wasting Crumbling like pastries, they scream The worst things in life come free to us Cuz we're just under the upperhand Go mad for a couple grams And she don't don't wanna go outside, tonight And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland Or sells love to another man It's too cold outside For angels to fly.. ( Credit Ed Sheeran)_

The boy stops playing and looks up, my gaze quickly darting away as I grudgingly force myself to start walking away, so the boy doesn't think I'm a complete stalker. I don't regret it until I am back in my car.

I may never see the boy with the amazing voice and the guitar ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

***Kurt***

"How about this one?" Rachel exits the bathroom for the fourth time, hand placed on her hip, making a full circle rotation so I can get a full view of the dress.

"Finn will love it," I reassure her. "I think he told me once he loves you in blue."

Rachel breaks out into a grin and does a little bounce of excitement, giddy as ever. "You really think so?" she turns to face the mirror, readjusting her hair back to perfection. After all, nothing can be too perfect for Rachel Berry. "Finn and I don't go out very much, so I want it to be perfect!"

I lean back against Rachel's pillow. "C'mon Rachel, you know Finn as well as I do, better even. He won't give a rip about what you're wearing. He isn't much for fashion, in case you can't tell by his collection of plaid shirts and worn out hoodies."

Rachel smiles and laughs. "I love his style. It's so...Finn," she tousels my hair as she sits next to me, to which I immediately fix. "Not everyone can be a fashionista like you,"

"Well he could be, if he took my advice more often," I point out, placing my hands behind my head as I stare at Rachel's ceiling.

I can't seem to put my whole heart and mind into helping Rachel with her date issue. Normally I'd be happy to help, but today my mind is elsewhere, at the park, gone with the guitar playing boy. I want, more than anything, to hear him laugh, to learn his name..

Suddenly, a pillow collides with the side of my face, catching me off guard. "Kurt!" Rachel's ruby red lips that are sure to be worn off by the end of the night are formed into a pout. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, of course I am."

"Liar." she sacks me again with the pillow, laughing now. I pick up the pillow behind me and smack her in the head with it in return. She lays on her stomach on her bed next to me, and rests her head on her hands, crossing her ankles in the air. "Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing really," I mumble, sitting up cross-legged.

Truth is, I have not the slightest clue as to why I'm thinking of that guy so much. Sure, I'd seen my fair share of attractive men in my lifetime, but none of them have occupied my everyday thoughts like this one. There was just something about him that has apparently given itself the right to invade my brain to the extent of Rachel noticing.

"You're smiling!" Rachel points an accusing finger at me, then her jaw drops slightly, her mouth forming a small 'o' with the look of a discovery. _"You have a crush on someone!"_

"Why do you say that?" I scoff.

"You have that far-off, starry eyed look of a lovestruck teenager!" Rachel says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Who is it? _What's his name?"_ Rachel gushes.

I rub a hand down my face in frustration, shaking my head. "There is no one!"

"There's no use lying about it!" Rachel argues as she sits up, crossing her arms over her chest firmly, obviously intent on getting the nonexistent details out of me. A soft knock on the door interrupts me as I open my mouth to speak, thank _God._

"Yes?" Rachel calls, shooting me a look that says _'you're safe for now.'_

"It's Finn," a male voice says gruffly from the other side of the door. Rachel's expression immediately perks up, and I can't help but half smile at the pure adoration on her face as she yanks open the door and engulfs Finn in a hug, burying her face in his chest.

I try to imagine myself in her position, greeting a boyfriend, burying my face in his chest, writing love songs for him, doodling his name into notebooks, but my mind draws a blank. I've never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, let alone kiss one. Gay guys are hard to come by, I've never met one that was open like I am. I don't have the slightest clue what it's like to love, be loved...

"Hey, Kurt," Finn raises his hand in a wave to me, half smiling. Finn and I have gotten quite close over these past few weeks, since we were paired in Glee club to sing a duet together, and had to hang out to practice and such, which naturally meant I'd be hanging out with Rachel.

I'm actually still getting used to that, the whole having friends thing. It's not the Kurt Hummel Way. The Kurt Hummel Way consists of writing songs alone in his room and taking pictures of random things and competing for solos against Rachel Berry for the lastest glee competition Mr. Shuester put on. Kurt Hummel isn't supposed to have friends, because Kurt Hummel is gay, thus giving him a shushie facial by the football team each day he enters the school doors.

"You look great, both of you," I tell them as I stand, preparing to head out the door with them.

"Thanks," Rachel and Finn chime, intertwining their hands.

"You two going to Breadstix?" I ask, although the obvious answer is yes. There isn't much to offer here in Lima, Ohio, except for a rundown school and a resturaunt that may or may not be FDA appoved.

"Yup, then Rachel's gonna head over to my place." Finn explains, smiling down at Rachel. Finn has to smile down at everyone, though, so it's no surprise there.

I raise an eyebrow at them, to which Finn's gaze drifts down as he smiles, catching my train of suspicion. "No funny businuess, ya hear?" I tease, pointing a finger at Rachel and Finn in turn.

"No worries," Rachel smiles wide, and then heads out the door, me at their heels.

I hop into my car once we're outside, but I don't start it right away. I watch as Finn holds the door open for Rachel, then shuts the door, and goes around the car to get in the drivers side. I see him lean over and kiss her before starting his truck and driving away.

As much as I try not to, my mind keeps repeating the same thought all the drive home: _Why can't I find a love like that?_


	3. Chapter 3

***Kurt***

"Man, algebra sucks." Puck throws his pencil down and rubs a hand over his face in frustration. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to put numbers and letters together must have been on some serious dope."

"Agreed, dude." Finn sighs, shutting his book with his unfinished work in it. He looks at me pleadingly. "Kurt...?"

"Don't look at me!" I raise my hands in the air in surrender. "I couldn't do math if it would save my life."

"God, where's Rachel when ya need her?" Puck groans, earning him a stern look from Finn, but Puck ignores it.

The three of us are sitting at Breadstix, the two of them wanting to "work on homework" without really working on it. I don't know why they brought me along, Puck and I aren't really friends, well not at all, considering he is usually the one to slushie me in the hallways or throw me in a dumpster after school. But he's Finn's best friend, and he's in Glee club, so I guess that entitles him to have to hang out with me. Or this is Finn's way of trying to get me more social. Whatever the case may be, it isn't exactly working, since Puck hasn't done any more than glance at me, barely acknowledging my presence. I won't complain though, it beats getting artificial cherry flavored ice in the eye.

"Dude, this blows." Puck sighs after a moment of silence. "It's Friday night and here we are-sitting in Breadstix like a bunch of losers with algebra books, and no girls to mack on."

"Rachel is practicing with Tina for the Glee assignment that we have to do Monday." Finn says, defending both himself and his girlfriend.

I look up from the ice in my soda that I've been spinning around in the cup for the last half hour. "Which we still haven't agreed on a song, by the way."

"Screw that," Puck makes a face. "I just need a girlfriend." he returns back to the original conversation. "Maybe then I wouldn't be stuck here with two flaming homos who may or may not be having a secret affair."

Finn rolls his eyes, and ignores Puck's comment. "I thought you had a thing going with Santana?"

"Okay, having hot sex with someone and having a girlfriend are two totally different things."

"Well I don't see her talking to any other guys lately. Ask her out."

"What? Puck doesn't roll like that," Puck shakes his head disapprovingly. "Where's the fun in that? That means I'll be tied down, and the Puck-Machine cannot be tamed."

I meet gazes with Finn. "And you wonder why I don't ever wanna hang out with you."

Finn shrugs, seeing my point.

We are quiet for a while then, Finn texting under the table and Puck staring at a waitress' ass across the restaurant, me listening to the staticy radio, humming quietly along. The song ends, and my heartbeat accelerates when the next song begins playing. I recognize the song not just because it's really popular right now, but because a certain boy had sang it at the park. It's The A Team by Ed Sheeran.

It seems I can't escape this boy, whenever he leaves my head it's only for a short period of time, never quite leaving, just gone out for a few hours, then returning home at the end of the day. I listen to the song with my eyes closed, picturing the boy playing it on his guitar, picturing his lips mouthing the words, his fingers strumming the strings...

"Kurt!" Finn's voice snaps me back to reality, sounding slightly annoyed, so he must have said my name more than once.

"Huh?"

"Rachel wants to know if you wanna go to the bookstore with her tomorrow. She's trying to get me to go, but I don't really wanna stand around waiting all day for her to read half a book...And you like to read, don't ya?" Finn asks, his brown eyes sparkling with hope that he can get out of going.

"Yeah, sure, I'll go." I agree. The bookstore isn't really anything special, considering only about 5% of the population of Lima actually go in. They treat it like books, or even knowledge, are some disease that is highly contagious, and by the looks of things, Finn really doesn't want to catch it.

"Thanks, dude, I owe ya one." Finn begins texting again, informing Rachel that she would be having me come along instead.

"Who _reads_ for fun?" Puck makes a face, and I chuckle to myself. Puck is a perfect example of the ignorance that is William McKinley High School.

Finn glances at his watch, his eyes suddenly growing wide. "Crap! I was supposed to be back with the car an hour ago! Come on guys, we gotta go." Finn hurridly takes the money for our drinks out of his wallet, pays for the three of us, and heads out the door, Puck and I trailing behind.

"You don't talk much, do ya Hummel?" Puck asks me, holding the door open for me, surprising me. "

I talk quite a bit." I defend myself, but I don't think Puck listened to the answer, because he doesn't wait for my response before running off towards the direction of Finn's mom's car.

_Maybe it's not that I don't talk, but perhaps that no one cares to listen._

**_A/N: I think I'll update once a week, as long as people are interested! Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated! :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

***Kurt Hummel***

"I don't see how you can stand to read biographies." I shake my head as Rachel scans the biography section of the store, her finger running across the spines of books in hot pursuit of the newest Barbara Streisand biography."They're so_ boring!"_

"I like finding out how people rose to stardom." Rachel defends herself. "So that way I know not to make the same mistakes when I become a star."

It makes sense, so I don't say anything, in silent agreement. "I'm gonna look over here." I gesture over to the romance section. Rachel nods, looking distant, her face lighting up when she finds a book.

I walk leisurely down the aisle, my eyes scanning the spines of the books. I breathe in a long breath, smelling the scent of unopened pages. So many words to be read, stories to be told. Books have always fascinated me, ever since I was little. Different views and perspectives, different fantasies, it all intrigues me.

After a while of scanning titles, I find myself slowly wandering towards the musical section, where books that teach you how to play certain instruments are located, ranging from recorder to keyboard, music books to simple books teaching the fingerings of certain instruments. I've never been really musically gifted, except for my voice. I can't seem to be able to remember notes, or anything of the sort. Like books, it has always been something I've been interested in. I can write music and lyrics fairly well, but when it comes to playing it, I'm about as useful as balloon deflated of air.I pick up a decent sized book about guitars, filled with different tabs and different musical pieces.

"How long have you been playing for?" a male voice asks me, causing me to glance up. My jaw drops when I see who it is, my mind suddenly blank of all thoughts, which normally is the first sign of when I would start babbling like an idiot.

It's the boy. The boy with the guitar, well, minus the guitar part. His sparkling hazel eyes glisten with interest, boring into mine, causing my face to grow warm. His mouth is pulled into an adorable half smile, and his voice...he's talking to me.. _Oh right! He's talking to you! Breathe Kurt, don't be an idiot..._

"Um, I-I don't." I stammer, my voice sounding weak to even myself. "I was just kind of checking it out." I swallow hard. The boy nods, unfazed by my social awkwardness. If he notices my idiocy, he pretends not to notice.

His hand grasps the book that I'm holding, his finger tips calloused from playing his guitar, and _God, he is close._ I can smell his cologne, his sweet scent that I'm sure I am getting drunk off of. "I think I have this book at home." he murmurs, thinking to himself. I barely comprehend what he's saying, too mesmerized by the silky smoothness of his voice, each word flowing off his tongue with such ease and perfection.

"You play?" I question, although I know the answer.

"Yeah, guitar, and some keyboard." the boy says as I return the book to its spot. The boy extends his hand out, peering at me through his sexy glasses. "I'm Blaine Anderson. And you are...?" he hasn't stopped smiling.

"Kurt Hummel." I respond, wishing I could wipe off my hand on my pants before I shake his hand, because it's probably sweaty.

We shake hands, and Blaine's smile breaks out into a grin. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kurt Hummel."

I smile back as our hands pull away. "What school do you go to?" I ask him, wanting to hear his voice, learn more about him.

"Dalton Academy." he responds, and I notice he's wearing a uniform; a black blazer with a red and black striped tie, and a white shirt underneath. I also see there's a pin attached as well, with a bird and a musical note on it. Blaine must notice me looking because he explains. "That's my Warblers pin. It's the glee club there."

"Oh, yeah, I know the Warblers!" the name rings a bell in my head. I think Mr. Shuester said something about competing against them in Sectionals this year. "I go to McKinley, and I'm the Glee club there, the New Directions?" I say the name, wondering if he has heard of us as well.

Recognition crosses Blaine's face. "Oh! Yeah, you guys are competing against us at Sectionals, if I remember correctly."

I nod, unable to keep the smile off my face. I can't entirely wrap my head around the fact that this is real, this is_ happening. _

"Hey, Kurt! I found it!" Rachel comes over to where I am, and her eyes freeze on Blaine, then dart back to me as she cocks her head in an unspoken question. "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry," Rachel introduces herself.

"Blaine Anderson." Blaine nods his head at her, smiling.

"Nice to meet you, Blaine." she grins at him. "You and Kurt know each other?"

"Well, we do now." Blaine chuckles, adjusting his glasses. "I was just about to give him my number, actually." Wait a second; did he just _wink_ at me? Is this for real?

Blaine extends his hand out once more. "You have a phone?"

"Uh, yeah!" I dig in my pocket and hand him my phone. He enters his name and number into my contacts, and hands me back my phone, then hands me his to enter my number into.

"You free tomorrow afternoon? We can go get coffee, or something?"

I nod numbly, unable to speak legible words. Blaine smiles shyly at me. "Cool."

Rachel's gaze keeps flickering back and forth between us. I can definitely tell she's going to give me a hard time about it later. At the moment, however, I don't really care.

"I gotta get going, but I'll get a hold of you with a time, alright?" Blaine asks me.

"Yeah, sounds great!"

"See ya, Kurt, Rachel," he half waves at both of us, walking away.

Rachel's face breaks out into a ridiculous grin. "So who was _that_, dear Kurt?"

"Blaine." I say simply, trying to shrug my way past her, but I can't get away that easily.

"He's _cute_!" Rachel squeals.

I quickly glance over to make sure Blaine is out of earshot. "I have no idea why he decided to talk to me." I tell her, my heart still pounding in my chest with nervousness at encountering the boy whose name is now in my phone, whose lips have spoken my name.

"Well, why not?" Rachel elbows me in the ribs before stepping up in line to pay for her book.

I think about this as she pays for her book. Really, what made Blaine want to talk to me? Did he recognize me from the park, or was it just the fact that I was holding the guitar book? Whatever the case may be, I'm glad it happened.

Kurt Hummel may have just made a friend without even trying.


	5. Chapter 5

***Kurt Hummel***

"I've never been here before," I murmur as I follow Blaine into the door of The Lima Bean, the coffee shop that was nonexistent to my knowledge, until just now.

Blaine glances over his shoulder at me as he heads for a booth close to the window. "Really? I come here all the time!" he slides into the seat, and shrugs off his coat. I debate on whether I should sit next to him, or across from him, then decide on the latter.

"I usually go to Breadstix." I respond, taking off my coat and setting it in the unoccupied spot next to me.

Blaine cocks his head to the side, a playful smirk on his face that makes my heart melt. "Never been there. I guess we're both going to have to introduce each other to new experiences, now won't we?"

"Guess so."

I watch as Blaine stands, and looks at me. "What kind of coffee do you like? I'll get it for you."

"Um, surpise me." I say lamely, unsure of what the menu might be like. Truthfully, I've never really had much coffee, unless it's smothered in sugar and or creamer, but I guess there is a first to everything. Blaine nods, and turns heel and walks away, leaving me sitting in the booth, looking after him, watching the grace with each step he takes, the confidence in his steps. He seems so sure of himself, unlike me, who can't even step into the school without worrying what people may think of me. Hell, I'm not even sure if I know what_ I_ think of myself. I'm just a plain out mess. It's only a matter of time before Blaine realizes this, and leaves.

Interrupting my thoughts, and probably for the better, Blaine sits down and slides a cup of unknown coffee towards me. "Drink up." he orders me, smiling.

I gingerly take a sip of the coffee, tasting more chocolatey that coffee-like, and it's good, way better than I expected. I take a larger sip, then set the cup down. "It's awesome, thanks," I tell Blaine. "Did you get the same?"

"No, I actually have just black coffee." Blaine shrugs. "I get something different every time I come here."

I shudder at the thought of the bitter black coffee. "Ugh, I don't see how you can stand drinking that!"

Blaine chuckles, taking a dramatic drink of his coffee, making me laugh. "So, who are your friends at your school?" Blaine asks.

My mind draws blank, going into panic mode. I really don't have any friends, other than Finn and Rachel, and even we don't talk very often. "Well, there's Finn Hudson, and Rachel Berry-you met Rachel at the bookstore."

"Oh, yeah, I remember." Blaine nods. "Finn Hudson...why does that name sound familiar to me?"

I stay quiet, letting Blaine figure out his thoughts. After a moment he snaps his fingers. "I know! His mom is Carole, right? My dad works with his mom."

"Small world." I say, cocking my head to the side in thought.

"No kidding! Then again, there aren't many people who don't know each other in Lima."

"True, it's almost like the whole town is incested, with how tight-knitted the community is." I agree. Blaine laughs, a genuine laugh, the first real laugh I've heard, and it's contagious, causing me to laugh along with him.

"Has anyone ever told you you're really easy to talk to?" Blaine rests is head on his hand. "Like, it feels like we've been friends for a long time, and we only met the other day!"

"I know, I've never really...connected with anyone as fast as I have with you." I agree, taking another drink of my coffee.

Blaine nods, and after a moment of silence he begins talking again. "So, back to the friend thing, is Rachel your girlfriend?"

Time seems to freeze in this moment, my blood running cold. This is the moment that could untimately change everything. I could tell him, right now, that I'm gay. That would get it out of the way, but what if he's homophobic, or something?

"No-no, she's Finn's girlfriend." I respond, and open my mouth to say _"and I'm gay."_ but snap it back shut, changing my mind at the last minute. It couldn't hurt to keep things simple and not awkward for the time being, now would it?

"Oh, I see." Blaine says. "You have a lucky lady in your life?"

_Ugh, can't we ditch the dating conversation?_

"Uh, nope, single as a single person could get." I inform him, then raise an eyebrow at him. "How about yourself?"

"Nahh, I'm the same way. I don't think I really interest anyone at my school." Blaine says hesitantly.

_Why wouldn't they be interested in you? I for one am _very_ interested!_

"I'm sure the right one will come along." I reassure him. Blaine nods, and continues talking, now changing the subject. We talk and get acquainted for almost two hours, before I unwillingly announce that my dad had told me to be home a half hour ago.

"Well, we should totally do this again sometime!" Blaine says, his eyes sparkling. "You get a hold of me whenever you're free, alright?"

I nod, thinking to myself how I am _always_ free, and _always_ willing to hang out with Blaine. "Sounds awesome!" I tell him. "See ya later!"

"Bye, Kurt!" my heart skips a beat as he says my name. As I hop in my car, my head spins with thoughts of Blaine, my heart still pounding, my ears still echoing with his voice saying my name.

_**A/N: Thank you for the reads! You guys rock :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

***Kurt Hummel***

"Hey, Lady-Hummel." Kerofsky shoves my shoulder as he walks by me in the hallway, causing me to drop my books, his football possy laughing and following him from behind.

"I think you dropped your purse!" another one calls out. I suppress a sigh as I bend down to pick up my things.

"I bet he's used to bending over for other guys." Kerosky snorts. I do my best to ignore their ignorant comments, fully aware that Puck isn't saying anything to stop his teammates from picking on me, not that I really expected any less from him.

"Hey, knock it off." Finn's voice comes from behind me as he leans over to help me pick up my stuff. "Sorry about that, dude." he says quieter to me, his brown eyes filled with sympathy.

"You playing for the other team now too, Hudson?" a team member asks.

"God, all those glee kids are faggots, man." Kerofsky scoffs, earning a harsh look from Puck, but he still remains silent.

"Go on, you don't have to embarrass yourself for me." I murmur to Finn as he hands me my stuff.

"It's whatever." Finn shrugs, standing straight as the football players continue their way down the hallway. "They're all a bunch of jerks, don't listen to em, Kurt."

"They're _your_ friends." I grumble, half to myself as I begin to walk to the choir room for glee rehearsal. Finn catches my shoulder, stopping me.

"Yeah, I know. Well-I wouldn't even call them my_ friends,_ except Puck. They're just my teammates."

"It seems like since you're quarterback they'd at least _attempt_ to listen to you." I say.

"You would think so, but no." Finn sighs, walking beside me to class. "It'll get better bro, I promise." Finn pats my shoulder before turning around to go to Rachel's locker.

_Yeah, maybe things will get better, but when?_

"Hey Kurt? Can I talk to you for a second?" My dad calls from the living room.

"Yeah, one second!" I go downstairs, where my father, Burt, is waiting for me. He is sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper in his face, reading. I sit across from him at the table, waiting for him to start talking about whatever he wanted to say.

"How are you doing, Kurt?" he folds the newspaper and sets it on the table, his eyes resting on me.

"I'm good, why?" my hands fidget in my lap. I hate it when my dad worries about me like this. It's not that I don't want him to care, or anything like that. It's just weird to talk about yourself and your life to your dad. Especially when your lives are completely opposite.

"You seem different lately." he responds, his eyebrows pulling together in the way they always do when he is deep in thought.

"Different how?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it. You seem more...lively. Happy." he pauses. "It's been a while since I've seen you smile like this, Kurt."

"I smile all the time!" I protest.

"No, I'm not talking about that fake crap you pull on me all the time and I pretend to believe." Burt says. "For the past week you've seemed to have more of a spring to your step, ya know what I mean?"

I nod once wordlessly, unsure of what I should say, if anything at all.

"Is it Finn?" Burt asks. "You've been spending a lot of time with him."

"Uh, yeah, I guess. He's cool." I swallow.

"It's good for you to make friends, Kurt. You can't stay so introverted all the time."

"Yeah, I know, I'm getting better." I say more forcefully.

"That's what you told me the day before you-" my father's voice dies out, unable to finish the sentence. There is a silence between us, the only sound the clock ticking. My hand involuntarily raises up to rub the scar on my right temple where the barrel of a gun once rested.

I got lucky, very lucky.

That night is mostly a blur, a mix of pain and emotion and feeling alone. I remember being so hurt, so sad, and I couldn't take the suffering anymore.

_One shot._ I had thought to myself. _One shot will make it all go away. _

And it did, but only temporarily.

Burt had found my motionless body bleeding on my bed. I had painted the walls red with blood, and all over my bedspread. It really upsets me thinking about that now that I'm in a slightly better state of mind, because I think to myself _why would I be so selfish as to leave my dead body for my _father_ to find? _

They brought me back to life somehow, and miraculously enough, there wasn't any drastic damage, except I get really bad headaches, and I black out sometimes, and other times I just have really bad nightmares. The sad thing is, even after all that trouble of trying to take my life, I can't say I wouldn't attempt it again.

As morbid as it is, I almost want to more, just because I now have people that know me, that might give two cents about me. It's terrible, it's selfish, but it's something that nags at my thoughts. But I can't tell my dad that.

"Dad..." my throat is dry. "I'm not in that place anymore. I would never do that again."

"If you ever have those thoughts again, you need to tell me, okay?" Burt says sternly. "Or at least tell Finn, or Blaine-that's the kids name that you're hanging out with lately, right?"

"Yeah, I will." I lie.

"Okay, I love you Kurt. I never want to come so close to losing you again."

"I know." I swallow the lump in my throat, and stand as Burt goes to hug me. When we pull away, his tone is a bit lighter, but forced.

"Hey, why don't you have Finn over next weekend?" he asks. "I'll be out of town, so you can have some company."

"Yeah, I'll ask him." I force a smile, and try to ignore the fact that he's only saying that because he doesn't trust me alone.

"You can invite others too, if you want." he adds, before squeezing my shoulder and heading outside, probably to work on his car.

My mind immediately flashes to Blaine. Would he be interested? I guess it couldn't hurt to ask, I mean, the worst he can say is no, right?

**A/N: Thank you Gleekforever12345 for the review! It means a lot! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

***Kurt Hummel***

"Okay, so you put your fingers here-no, right _here._" Blaine's hand replaces mine, showing me, well, _attempting_ to show me, where to put my fingers on the guitar. "They're called frets." Blaine informs me. I nod in comprehension, feeling utterly useless.

I don't think Blaine knew when he agreed to give me guitar lessons how difficult the task would be.

I glance up from the guitar in my hands to Blaine's face. He is sitting cross-legged on my living room floor in front of me, me sitting on the couch. Blaine's soft eyes meet mine, his mouth turning up into a half smile that makes my stomach flip flop. I can't help but smile back. "

I'm hopeless."

"No, everyone's gotta start somewhere!" Blaine says confidently. "It's just that...you're beginning is a little worse than others." he grins at the last part.

I grab the throw-pillow that is next to me and chuck it at him, Blaine catching it against his chest.

"You're a feisty one, Kurt Hummel." he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Instead of throwing it back at me, he sets it back into its original position. "So, do you remember the chords I showed you earlier?"

"Umm..." I can barely remember my own name with Blaine looking at me like that, a faint smile still lingering on his lips, his eyes open and honest, the smell of his cologne filling my nose...

Blaine ducks his head as he chuckles, and moves from his position on the floor to on the couch next to me, his knee slightly touching my hip, his legs underneath him. Just the simple touch is enough to put my body on edge.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, unable to look him directly in the eyes.

"You look upset." Blaine observes, making me cringe at the false statement, and the fact that he notices my nerves. "You'll get it eventually." he encourages me. "Here, let me help you." he scoots closer to me, and to my surprise leans over me to reach for the neck of the guitar, his body hovering over mine. I pray to God that he didn't hear my intake of breath.

He is so _close,_ closer than he's ever been before, even though we've been hanging out everyday for the past week, counting the day at the coffee shop, and as friends we've gotten quite comfortable around each other.

His hand brushes mine as he reaches for the strings, and his eyes glance up at me before looking back down to the guitar, biting his lip in a painfully sexy way. "And you put your hand...here." he is saying, his voice low, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. "It's uh, kind of hard to show you from this angle. Could you scoot up a little?"

I nod and scoot up so I'm closer to the edge of the couch, unsure of how scooting up will help him. Blaine slides behind me, his legs on either side of my hips, but his body not touching mine.

Oh, so_ that's_ how.

I take in a deep breath, attempting to control my emotions.

"Put your fingers on the strings." Blaine says incredibly close to my ear, his voice shy. I do as he tells me, and he moves his hand so it's hovering directly over mine, his fingertips grazing my knuckles. "And you strum like this." Blaine drags his thumb across the strings, the sound echoing in the now silent room, bouncing off the walls, the only sound my unsteady breathing and that damn irritating clock again. I feel Blaine's warm breath on my neck, and my heartbeat begins to accelerate in my chest. If I turned my head, our lips would touch...

"The party has arrived!" the door bursts open, revealing Finn with Puck behind him, Puck being the one who had spoken.

I leap up off the couch, Blaine catching the guitar by the neck before it clattered to the floor. I turn halfway around the face him, my face burning a deep red. His face his flushed red as well, obviously embarassed at the two guys walking in while we were in that position. He doesn't look at me, his eyes on Finn and Puck.

"Hey guys," my voice falters, and I clear my throat. "W-Where's Sam?"

"He's on his way, he had to run extra laps in order to let Coach Beiste agree to let him join the football team." Finn explains, his gaze darting from Blaine and I, his eyes flashing with suspicion. I obviously was not fast enough moving off the couch.

"Ready to get our Call of Duty on?" Puck holds up the Black Ops 2 game, a sly grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.

"Always," Blaine chews on his lip, looking like his mind is elsewhere.

"This must be Blaine?" Finn asks, gesturing to Blaine, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

"Oh, yeah! Blaine, this is Finn and Puck." I gesture to each of them as I say their names. I had completely forgotten they had never met before.

I'm still slightly puzzled as to why Puck agreed to come over, since he most certainly is not my biggest fan. I mean, yeah, I had brought it up to him, but I hadn't expected him to _show up._ Well, Finn had brought it up to him, anyways. Unsure of how Finn would feel about staying the night alone with a gay kid, I had told him Puck could come.

"And Sam will be here soon." Finn adds.

I honestly have never talked to Sam before. He's new at McKinley, and is in the glee club, and by the looks of it hasn't really made any friends. It had been Finn who invited him in attempt to involve Sam, make him feel like he belonged, with I think was really nice of him.

"Nice you meet you guys." Blaine smiles at them.

"You guys can head up to my room, I'll get us some drinks." I tell them. "That's where the Xbox is at."

Finn leads the way upstairs, being the only one who has been in my house before, Puck and Blaine following behind.

"You better not suck." Puck is telling Blaine as they disappear up the steps.

I grab four cans of Mountain Dew out of the refridgerator before going upstairs, my mind suddenly whirling and paranoia creeping into me. I've never had friends over like this before. What if they think my room is weird? What if someone notices the bloodstained comforter on my bed that can't seem to come clean?

_Breathe, Kurt. Finn never noticed it before, so they probably won't notice it now._

As I enter my room, Puck plops down on the green beanbag chair in front of my TV, Blaine sitting down next to him on the floor, and Finn taking a seat at the foot of the bed, right on the most noticeable stain. I swallow back the hysteria threatening to escape me.

_Everything is okay._

I hand out the drinks, each of them thanking me as I settle down next to Finn on my bed, lying on my stomach, my ankles crossed in the air behind me.

"I feel bad for whoever gets stuck on my team." I say. "

Since Finn and I are kickass at this game, we'll split up." Puck says, popping the disk into the Xbox. He turns to Blaine. "You any good?"

"I'm pretty good." Blaine offers optomisticly.

"I'm not." I say with as much enthusiasm, making Blaine laugh.

"Kurt, you can play on Finn's team, I'll take the Warbler." Puck tosses a controller at each of us.

About four Kurt-deaths later, there is a soft knock on the door downstairs. Happy for the escape from the game which I am losing at terribly, I leap off the bed, pausing the game.

"Jeez, Kurt, you weren't kidding when you said you suck at this game." Puck shakes his head, but he doesn't sound too insulting as he says it, a faint smirk on his face.

"Yeah, he's making me look bad!" Finn teases, flashing me teasing grin. "I'll go with you."

Finn and I go downstairs, and I open the door, a blond haired and blue eyed Sam on the other side, his hair damp from a recent shower.

"Hey, guys." he gives a shy smile, that new kid smile, the one that says _please don't hate me._ I know that look well- I was the new kid at McKinley only at the beginning of this year.

"Hey, man." Finn greets him. "The other two are upstairs, I hope you like Black Ops."

"Pff, _do I like Black Ops."_ Sam scoffs, grinning. "I'll smoke all y'all!"

"Wonderful, then you can take my spot!" I tell him, to which he chuckles.

The three of us head upstairs, where the game has been unpaused, Blaine and Puck resuming the gameplay without us.

"Cheaters!" Finn smacks Puck on the back of the head as he walks by. "Let's start over, since Sam's here now."

"Sweet, some actual competition." Puck says approvingly.

Sam sits on the floor next to Puck, grabbing my controller, and they all begin playing, me dozing off, too lost in my own thoughts to really pay attention, or care, about the game. My mind seems jumbled, unable to organize itself. I'm thinking about the stain on my bed, about Sam being a new kid like me, about actually having people associating with me without beating me up, and about what Blaine's lips would feel like on mine.

After a couple hours I must have dozed off, because I jolt when Finn sets the controller on the floor and rubs a hand over his face. "Is it normal for your eyes to burn deep within your skull whenever you blink?"

"I need a break." Blaine agrees, stretching out his legs in front of him.

I glance at my alarm clock, which reads 1:30 AM. "You guys can take your stuff down to the basement if you want, that's where we'll be sleeping."

Everyone stands, grabbing their things, and heading downstairs, Puck talking about football with Sam as they go down the steps, Blaine joining in.

I start for the steps, but Finn stops me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Can we talk for a sec?"

"Uh, sure." I say, leaning against the the threshold of the door. Finn shoves his hands in his pockets and slowly walks in a small circle around my room, his eyes up towards my ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts. I don't say anything, waiting for him to say the first words. "Is something up with you and Blaine?"

The question catches me off guard. "No." I respond, because it's the truth.

Finn cocks an eyebrow at me disbelievingly. "You guys looked awfully comfy on the couch earlier."

I feel my face blush. "He was just showing me how to play guitar," I defend myself.

"Uh huh." Finn has a teasing tone, but then his face grows serious. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about, though."

"What is it?" I ask, feeling awkward for some reason. I mean, I shouldn't, considering Finn is the closest friend I have, besides Blaine.

"My mom, she uh, said something about you the other day." Finn doesn't look at me as he talks, playing with the strings on my blinds absently.

"Did she?" anxiety begins to bubble up inside me.

"Yeah. She said..stuff happened." Finn's eyebrows pull together, and he finally looks at me. "What's that scar on your temple from, Kurt?"

My blood runs cold at the question that hangs in the air, my body frozen. Is there any easy way to answer that question?

"Rachel has asked me about it before too." he continues. "I told her I didn't know how you got it."

"I..." I can't seem to find words. What if he thinks I'm a freak? It was a stroke of luck he didn't care about my sexuality, I should have known that something would screw it up.

"Did you try to kill yourself, Kurt?" his voice is barely a whisper.

A single tear streams down my cheek without my consent, which only makes me want to cry more. Neither Finn or I move, both of us frozen, Finn's face unreadable. It seems to be a cross between wanting to bolt out of the room, or punch me in the face.

After a long moment that feels like an eternity, Finn crosses the room and embraces me. Finn has never been a man of words, and he seems like he doesn't like to show is emotions very much, so this surprises me. I bury my face into his chest, not caring how weird it might be. He doesn't say anything, and I'm glad.

When I do pull away, I try to smile at him. "Thanks."

Finn looks past me, biting his lip as he grabs his bag. "We should probably go downstairs." he says after a moment.

"Yeah." I nod, feeling like complete shit. I never meant to upset Finn. "Can... can you not tell anybody? Not even Rachel."

Finn nods curtly. "I won't." and he heads downstairs without a word, leaving me upstairs, feeling empty inside.

**A/N: Thank you aremej012 for the review! And thanks to all other readers! You rock :)  
**


	8. Chapter 8

***Kurt Hummel***

I lay awake on my basement floor, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling around my head, my body fully aware that Blaine is right next to me, the distance between us feeling incredibly close; if I stretched my arm out I could touch his.

I can hear Puck snoring, and Finn's deep breathing, both of them lost within their own minds, deep in sleep mode. Light reflects off of Sam's face as he lays on the couch, on his phone. Puck is sprawled out on the pull out bed, and Finn's face is buried in his arm as he lays in the recliner. I can't tell if Blaine is asleep or not, because he is turned on his side, facing in the other direction. I consider striking up a conversation with Sam, but he has earbuds in, his head nodding slightly in beat to whatever music he is listening to. My mind is far too active at the moment to even consider sleep. Not that sleep has ever been a real friend of mine, it usually only brings along unwelcome nightmares.

"Kurt, are you awake?" a voice whispers to me, causing me to sit upright. I glance over and see Blaine is peering at me, laying down, his upper body being propped upwards as he leans on his elbows. "Crap, did I wake you up?"

"No, no."

"I'm not tired, at all." Blaine says, his eyes twinkling even in the darkness.

"Me either." I breathe, being cautious to not wake the other two who are asleep.

"Can we...go for a walk?" Blaine suggests, his voice sounding less confident than it usually does.

"Sure!" I agree, not bothering to hide the enthusiasm in my tone, to which Blaine smiles at me as he stands.

"We're gonna have to be sneaky." he murmurs in my ear, his tone playful as he grabs a hold of my wrist and starts pulling me up the stairs, his steps light. I look back over my shoulder, and see Sam's eyes flicker up to us, his head slightly cocked in question. I press my finger to my lips, and he just nods, looking slightly confused, and looks back to his phone. I feel guilty for being glad he doesn't want to come along.

Blaine and I go out the back door, which leads to the pool. Blaine inhales a deep breath, his eyes closed. "I love this time of year." he murmurs. "Not quite fall, and it being warm." he kicks off his shoes and puts his feet in the water, and I realize that he is in just shorts and a white tank top, a wife-beater as Finn recently informed me it was called, and his hair slightly askew.

"Come sit!" Blaine invites me, patting the spot next to him. "It's really nice, almost the temperature of the air."

I do as he says and put my own feet in the water, trying to ignore the fact that Blaine and mine's arms are touching. Blaine looks up at the full moon above us. "I used to wanna be an astronaut." Blaine murmurs, smiling to himself.

I'm not sure why, but this little bit of information makes me like Blaine even more.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I always used to take cardboard boxes and make rocket ships in my backyard." Blaine chuckles at the memory.

"That's cute." I say without thinking. _Idiot._

Blaine ducks his head, grinning. "You think so?"

I don't have time to respond, because suddenly the pool deck is no longer underneath me, and I am falling into the pool. Well, scratch that, being _pushed._

When I resurface, my hair flattened and probably looking awful and my shirt sticking uncomfortably to my body, Blaine laughing. He dives in, and comes back up above water in front of my face.

"That was totally uncalled for." I say, floating on my back, closing my eyes that keep wandering to the clothes clinging desperately to Blaine's body, making me want him in a way that I had never really wanted someone before.

"Aw, don't be mad." Blaine teases, and I open an eye as he swims closer to me. I lean up against the side of the pool, Blaine just inches away from my face. He bites his lip nervously. "Kurt...do you ever get the sudden impulse to do something? Even if it's completely crazy? And it takes everything in you to not cave in and do it?"

I nod wordlessly, my eyes never leaving Blaine's, although his gaze keeps darting down or away from me.

Blaine exhales a breath, and before I can register what is going on, his lips are pressed against mine, feeling warm and tasting of chlorine and passion. His hand rests on my chest, and I wonder if he can feel my frantic heartbeat. Without really thinking I wrap one arm around his waist and pull him a bit closer to me, and I hear his breath hitch in his throat, and he deepens the kiss, his lips feeling as if they were made to fit into mine. It is everything that I imagined it would be and more.

Blaine pulls away, his face flushed as he looks at me through his long lashes. "I..I'm sorry, that must have been weird, I didn't want to do that, but-"

"No, I'm glad you did." I sound breathless to myself. "It wasn't weird."

Blaine cocks his head at me. "Wait, are you...gay?"

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I nod.

Blaine laughs a nervous little laugh that sounds both relieved and bubbly and unbearably cute as it squeaks at the end. "Yeah...God, you don't know how great that is. How awkward it would have been if you had ended up straight..." he trails off, and we both laugh, sounding giddy.

"I...I can't believe it." I mumble. "I've never met another guy like me before."

"Really?" Blaine murmurs, and his arms snake around my waist, his eyes searching mine, silently asking if it's okay. _Of course it's okay._

"Nope." my voice is barely a whisper. All I can think, feel, is Blaine's arms around my waist and myself hard under the water. I pray to God that he won't see.

I wonder to myself if this is going to become a daily thing, Blaine and I kissing, and really hope it is. I feel like I'm flying, walking on air, my mind blank and I feel nothing but love and passion and Blaine's lips pressed to mine.

Blaine pulls away, and bites his lip, lightly laughing, his eyes playful as they meet mine. "Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are, Kurt?"

I laugh. "Now."

Blaine grins and dives underwater, splashing me in the face, heading towards the deck. "Well this is a problem," he says as he climbs out. "I'm all wet, and didn't bring a spare change of clothes."

I swim over to the other end of the pool, where Blaine is wringing out his tank top, the water spilling to the deck. "I have some clothes you can borrow." I tell him.

Blaine's expression is difficult to read, a smile plastered on his face. "Sounds good."

Blaine appears in my doorway, wearing my gray sweatpants and blue T-shirt, the shirt hugging is body tightly, firm over his muscles, the shirt a little small. I make a conscious effort not to scan his body which is unbearably sexy right now, his hair still wet from our dip in the pool, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Ready to go back downstairs?" I ask him, getting up off my bed and heading towards Blaine.

"Sure, although I think it'll be pretty hard to sleep after tonight." Blaine murmurs, his hand brushing mine, looking up at me through his long lashes shyly. Acting on impulse, I take his face in my hands and kiss him gently on the lips. I feel him smile before pulling away.

"Now I _definitely_ won't be able to sleep."

I chuckle, and Blaine and I go downstairs as silently as possible. The basement is dark, not even the light of Sam's phone lighting it anymore. I crawl into my blankets on the floor, sneakily moving my pillow closer to Blaine's while his head is turned the other way. I think he notices when he turns onto his back, but he says nothing, his eyes closing. "Goodnight, Kurt." he murmurs, and I smile as he says my name.

"Goodnight, Blaine."

**A/N: Finally, something happens! :) Thanks for the reads and reviews, guys. It means so much to me!**


	9. Chapter 9

***Finn Hudson***

My eyelids flutter open, and for a minute I'm confused as to where I am. I glance over and see Puck's head stuffed underneath a pillow, and remember I'm at Kurt's. I sit up in the recliner and stretch my arms above my head, yawning. I turn my head as something moves in the corner of my eye-Sam. He props himself up on his elbows, rubbing his face. "Morning, sunshine." I tease softly, trying not to wake up Puck, who is most certainly _not_ a ray of sunshine in the morning. Sam smirks at me, and looks around the room, and his expression changes dramatically to an unreadable expression to a spot on the floor.

I follow his gaze, and see Kurt and Blaine, tangled together in their sleep, Kurt's face buried into Blaine's chest. _Nothing is going on with me and Blaine. Riiiiight._

"They left in the middle of the night and went outside." Sam informs me. "I didn't bother asking where they were going." he pauses. "You said Kurt is gay, right?"

I nod, biting my lip to keep from laughing at the two guys. Kurt would die if he knew what he was doing, I know it.

"Maybe Blaine is too." Sam concludes, raising his eyebrows.

I ponder this. Blaine doesn't really strike me as gay, although I guess that's kind of stereotypical. It's more than likely they are doing that in the state of unconsciousness.

We must have been talking too loudly, because Kurt raises his head drowsily, coming face to face with Blaine, causing him to breathe in a sharp intake of breath and scoot back, obviously startled. Sam and I both laugh, and Kurt's face burns a crimson red, caught in the act.

"Gettin' awful cozy, aren't we?" Sam grins. Kurt picks up his pillow and throws it at Sam, who catches it with ease.

Kurt hurriedly glances over at Blaine, and sighs in relief as Blaine continues to sleep. "Thank _God_ he didn't wake up to me up on him like that."

I can't help but chuckle. "He might have enjoyed it as much as you did."

A look crosses Kurt's face that passes to quickly for me to read, almost a knowing look, mixed. I dismiss it, my brain still fuzzy from sleep. I glance at my phone, where an unread message from Rachel flashes on the screen, along with the time reading 11:30 A.M.

**Good morning! **

I smile at the text, but feel kind of bad about not being the one to text her something first.

**Sleep well? :)**

"How long were you guys planning on staying over?" Kurt asks Sam and I, his gaze drifting to each of us in turn.

As I open my mouth to answer, an annoyed groan interrupts me. "Can you guys pipe down?" Puck's voice is muffled from the pillow, but his eyes glower angrily at each of us. "Some of us are not lunatics and actually _like_ sleep."

"You can sleep when you're dead." Kurt shrugs indifferently, standing up and running a hand through his hair that isn't spiked as usual, looking different laying flat on his head, parts bumpy and sticking up from sleep. My eyes involuntarily drift to the scar on his temple. I swallow the lump in my throat and look away.

"Well I was going to have Rachel over later," I reply. "So I wanted to get home and shower."

"I don't have a time." Sam says. "I'll just probably go whenever Finn goes." he pauses, a mischievous smile on his face. "May as well give you and Blaine some, ahem, _alone time."_ he lowers his voice, making me laugh, and Kurt's ears turn pink.

"I was going to jump in the shower," Kurt informs us, ignoring Sam's comment. "So, I mean, you guys can stick around, or leave, or whatever you want."

"I'll head home." I confirm, rubbing a hand down my face, attempting to fully wake myself up. "I better get this guy up." I gesture in the direction of where Puck is sleeping, or pretending to sleep, whichever the case may be. I take my pillow and hit him over the head with it, to which his head snaps up, his eyes filled with venom. "Screw off." he grumbles.

"We're leaving," I say. "Catch a ride with me unless you wanna walk home."

With some minor grumbling Puck sits up and throws his stuff into his bag. "Thanks for letting me crash here, Kurt. It was fun." he says through a yawn. By the look on Kurt's face, I can tell this sudden showing of gratitude takes him off guard-me as well.

"Yeah, thanks man." I nod at him, seeming unable to look at him without imagining the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. I swallow the lump in my throat as Sam says his goodbyes and the three of us head upstairs, Puck and I jumping into my truck, and Sam getting in his own vehicle, us departing in our own separate ways.

* * *

I step out of the shower, facing the steamy mirror in front of me. I wipe it off with a towel and meet my own brown-eyed gaze in the reflection, studying myself. My black hair is ruffled every which way from washing it, my face slightly flushed from the heat of the shower. I can't help but wonder what Rachel sees in me. Does she see this dorky looking kid I see? I shake my head to clear my thoughts and unlock the door and step out of the bathroom, startled when something bumps into my bare chest. "What the-"

"Oh! Finn...I'm sorry," Rachel looks up at me through her eyelashes, her face slightly pink. "I uh, didn't know you'd be coming out so soon..." her eyes flash down to my towel-wrapped waist momentarily, causing my face to heat up.

"How long have you been standing out there?" I ask her, starting to smile at the accomplishment of catching her waiting for me, or whatever she was doing, while I was in the shower. She obviously had not meant to get caught in the act.

"I came in because I saw your truck in the driveway, and your mom's car was gone, and you were in the shower," she pauses, then giggles. "I didn't know you sang in the shower."

I laugh, embarrassed. "Yeah..." I grin at her. She smiles back at me, tucking her hair behind her ear. I rest my hand in the crook of her neck and kiss her, feeling the spark I always feel whenever we kiss. It's as if it's the first time-whenever we kiss.

Once I pull away, Rachel waves me off in the direction of my room. "Come now, go get dressed. I don't feel comfortable knowing the only layer you have on your body is that towel." her gaze drops down again, and she bites her lip, giving her away that she most certainly does _not_ mind it. I chuckle and grab her hand as I walk, and once I get to far away let her hand drop as I go to my room, Rachel following me until reaching the threshold.

"How was Kurt's?" she asks through the door.

"It was fun," I respond, grabbing some clothes out of my dresser and changing. "Video games, stuff Rachels don't tend to do." I smile to myself, remembering the time I tried to get her to play Halo with me, and it failed miserably.

"Who was all there?"

"Kurt, Sam, Puck, and a kid from Dalton Academy named Blaine." I can't help but chuckle to myself at the memory of Kurt and Blaine snuggling on the floor. There is definitely something up between the two of them, and I will find out what. Especially because by the sounds of it, Sam is just as curious.

"Blaine..." recognition shows in Rachel's tone. "He have hazel eyes, kind of on the short side?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, confused as to how or why Rachel would know exactly who I was talking about.

She squeals excitedly as I open the door, and I see her eyes shining with excitement, a smile on her face. "Oh my gosh! Kurt and I saw him at the bookstore! Kurt was giving him the eyes, and Blaine gave him his _number._.." Rachel gushes.

"Wait, slow down," I register what she is saying. "They were like, flirting?"

Rachel cocks her head thoughtfully. "Kinda, yeah. I mean, they were all smiley and stuff."

I nod my head as I think. "I knew there was something up with them. They were kind of like that at Kurt's house." I tell her, deciding not to give her full details, considering Kurt would probably not be too fond of me blabbing my mouth about it.

Rachel grins, and intertwines our hands as we enter my room, and lay on the bed, her head resting on my chest as I absently play with her hair. "They would be so cute." she murmurs. "Kurt needs someone in his life like that."

I nod in agreement, my mind once again going to Kurt's suicide attempt. I can't wrap my head around the idea of Kurt doing that to himself, or _anyone_, for that matter. Is there really a breaking point so powerful that it could cause you to want to take your life, without any second thought? Blaine will be good for Kurt. He'll look out for him, help Kurt through the sadness that I can still see so plainly in his eyes, in his expression when he thinks no one notices, or cares.

_Well, as long as..._ I think grimly to myself. _Blaine isn't the one to push him over the edge again._

* * *

**A/N: Thanks ****Katistheawesome**** for the review! And all other reviewers/readers! :')**


	10. Chapter 10

***Kurt Hummel***

I step out of my room and start to head down the stairs, the house silent, telling me that everyone has left, unless Blaine is still sleeping downstairs. He wouldn't leave without a goodbye, would he? My head spins in the remembrance of last night's events, where Blaine attempted to teach me how to play guitar, our late night dip in the pool, everything. My mind has been able to think of nothing else since I woke up with my head on his chest this morning. I creep down the basement steps as silently as possible, to not disturb a certain Warbler who may or may not be sleeping still.

When I reach the foot of the stairs, my eyes meet a hazel-eyed gaze, causing my stomach to turn, but not in an unpleasant way. I can't help but smile at the sight of Blaine with his hair curly and unkempt, his eyes still dazed from sleep, not quite woken up yet. His eyes brighten when he sees me, and he stretches, and stands.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." I tease, leaning against the stair's railing.

"Good morning, yourself." Blaine greets, and crosses the room, his eyes finding the mirror on the wall, and a look of horror crosses his face. "Good grief, I look terrible." he shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair.

I roll my eyes, not believing it for a second. "You do not. I don't think you ever could look bad." I admit.

Blaine scoffs, but a smile plays in his eyes. He looks around the room. just now realizing we are the only two down here. "Where are the other guys?"

"They left." I respond, my mind fully processing now that Blaine and I are completely alone, which makes me both nervous and content at the same time.

Blaine raises his eyebrows, his pupils darkening before my very eyes, making me feel warm.

"Just us?" he asks, his tone light, but wanting hiding within his eyes. Although Blaine tends to hide his emotions quite well, I'm beginning to learn you can find his true feelings in his eyes.

"Just us." I repeat softly.

Blaine takes a step closer to me, his eyes downcast, towards the floor as he rests his hand on the staircase railing. I don't move, unsure of what exactly he's doing, or what I should do in the current situation. His eyes meet mine as he bites his lip, then places one hand on my hip and gently pulls me closer to him, giving me time to pull away if I feel the need. However, of course, I don't. I let Blaine pull me closer to him until our lips graze one another's, and I fill the gap between us my colliding our lips, my stomach lurching up into my throat, butterflies scattering throughout my entire body at our touch. Like last night's, our kiss doesn't last long, nothing too elaborate, but is enough to send my mind spinning off kilter.

Blaine grins at me, and starts walking upstairs, turning halfway around to face me. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. You mind if I grab something to eat?"

"Go for it." I say, my voice light, still whirling from our kiss. How can he act so unaffected by it? Does it really mean nothing to him, or is he just hiding it? I try not to linger on the specifics too much, and follow him up the stairs.

Blaine stops in the middle of my kitchen, and turns to face me, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips, his eyebrow cocked. "Is there cereal available, Mr. Hummel?" he asks.

I smile back, and gesture with my head towards the cupboard above the sink. "You'll find our quality, state-of-the-art Frosted Flakes in our cupboard section." I play along. "I can make toast, or eggs or something, if you'd rather."

"Nah, I'm not really an 'actual' breakfast kind of guy." Blaine declines, and reaches his arm up towards the cupboard, struggling to wrap his hand around the handle, standing on his tip-toes, his face scrunched up in concentration. I can't help but laugh at the incredibly adorable sight.

"Let me help you." I say between laughs, and reach up to the cupboard and grab the box of cereal for him, handing him the box, smirking at him.

Blaine's face forms into a pout as he takes the box from me, his eyes glint with playfulness. "Don't look so smug." he chides, turning away from me. He manages to grab a bowl above the sink, sending me a look of triumph while doing so, and pours himself a bowl as I get out the milk jug for him.

"I'm not looking like anything." I backfire, a sly grin forming its way on my lips. Blaine smirks at me, and sets his bowl at the kitchen table, and sits, beginning to eat. I sit at the table, although I don't have anything to eat.

"Where's your dad?" Blaine asks after taking a spoonful of cereal, his eyes glancing over some pictures framed on the wall we are facing.

"I think he went to some meeting for work for the weekend." I explain.

"And your mom?" Blaine raises an eyebrow.

I swallow the lump in my throat. It's been years since she's passed, but sometimes it kind of sucks to think about. Grief isn't really something that goes away, you just learn to cope with it. Life goes on, and all that.

"She's uh, no longer with us." I say quietly, my eyes locked on the framed picture in the middle, of my mom, dad, and me.

Blaine, obviously upset with himself for asking, stutters for words. "Oh God, Kurt, I'm sorry, I didn't-" Pity shines in his eyes as obvious as if he had said so out loud.

"I know, and its fine." I say. "But you don't have to look at me like I'm a kicked puppy." The words come out more harshly than I mean for them to, and I instantly regret it.

Blaine hesitates for a moment, before speaking. "I know, I'm sorry." he says. If he took offense to my outburst, he doesn't show it, although we don't speak again until he's putting his bowl in the sink, and begins rinsing it.

"You don't have to do that." I inform him.

"I know," Blaine shrugs indifferently. "Don't you know that I'm a professional dish washer?" he turns his head to wink at me. I can't help but laugh, beyond thankful for the tension between us gone.

"Listen, I really am sorry about what I said-" I begin, but Blaine flicking water into my face cuts me off. He grins at me, and I know I'm forgiven.  
"Uncalled for." I narrow my eyes at him. Blaine looks like he's about to say something, but he presses his lips to mine instead, his palm resting in the small of my back. When he pulls away, he is smiling, and my cheeks feel hot.

Blaine's fingertips graze my cheeks lightly. "Very confidence-building, knowing I can make you blush." he teases, which only makes me flush more.

"It isn't hard to do." I murmur.

Blaine smiles, and presses his lips to mine again, and when he pulls away, I cock my head in question, unable to keep the question from escaping my mouth. "So are you my boyfriend?" I feel like an idiot as soon as the words are out.

Blaine just kind of stares at me for a moment, until he laughs, his eyes crinkling as he does so. "Well, of course! I mean, I thought it was obvious. I don't just do this to everyone.." he takes his hand in mine.

"Well, I, uh." I stutter, feeling embarrassed. Blaine, on the other hand, seems to find it entertaining, because he chuckles again, squeezing my hand once. "If it would make you feel better, I will ask formally." his mouth pulls up more on one side mischievously as he lowers himself onto one knee, looking up at me with big hazel eyes through his long, dark eyelashes.

"God, Blaine-"

"Kurt Hummel, will you do me the honors of allowing me to call you my boyfriend?" he asks, his voice silky smooth.

"T'would be my pleasure." I grin, rolling my eyes as Blaine stands once more.

"What a relief. Have I ever told you how I fear rejection?"

"Shut the hell up and kiss me."

And he does.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much to The World in Black and White and Katistheawesome for the reviews! And thank you to all my readers! You guys rule :)**


	11. Chapter 11

***Blaine Anderson***

The day Kurt comes over to meet my family is interesting, to say the least.

I lean against the threshold of Kurt's door as he leans over, his lean fingers tying the laces of his combat boots as he leans over. "What if they hate me?" he asks without looking up at me.

I can't help but chuckle. "Kurt, they aren't going to hate you. What is there to hate?"

"My face, my hair, my wardrobe...oh god, what if they think I'm a bad influence or something because of the way I dress? Maybe I should go change..." Kurt groans, turning to head for the stairs.

I stop him by grabbing onto his wrists, pulling him closer. I lift his chin so he can make eye contact with me, although he is taller than me, his head is positioned to the floor, making him look at me. "You look fine. Better than fine. They're going to love you. Cooper has been practically _begging_ for me to bring you over since I broke the news that we're dating." I make a face, remembering Cooper's persistent prying, asking me every question under the sun of our relationship- most things I did not answer, due to the inappropriateness of them.

"Your brother is going to be there?" Kurt arches an eyebrow at me, a gesture that I've grown accustom to. It's cute, and I think he's aware of my liking to it, so he does it quite often.

"Unfortunately, yes." I frown. Don't get me wrong, I love my older brother, but he can be kind of smothering, not to mention cocky.

"Great, more people." Kurt's tone is sarcastic as he slips on his coat. "Let's get this over with." he says.

I roll my eyes, our arms linking together as Kurt holds the door open for me. "I couldn't agree more."

* * *

***Kurt Hummel***

Blaine takes his porch steps two at a time, looking anxious. Wind chimes that hang from a hook dangling from the roof cling against one another lightly in the breeze, playing along to their own unscripted melody. He holds the door open for me, gesturing with his other hand for me to go first. I swallow the lump in my throat, getting myself together, and take the first step into the Anderson household.

The house smells faintly of a pumpkin scented candle as I kick my shoes off at the mat at the door, where other shoes lie, Blaine doing the same after the screen door shuts behind us. We meet gazes, and I give him a half smile, coming to the realization that this might actually be much more stressful for him than for me. I mean, parents can be quite embarrassing, and who knows what _his_ parents are like. He's never really talked about them, or his family at all, for that matter.

Blaine reaches out, palm outstretched, indicating for me to take it. I intertwine our hands, and he pulls me into the house as we leave the sun room behind us.

The house seems to be larger on the inside than on the outside, and looks almost un-lived in, if I'm being honest. Either Blaine's parents wanted to make a very good impression for their guest, (yours truly) or they are just really, really clean. I'm not sure which option makes me feel more comfortable.

Blaine seems to see my thoughtful expression, because he nudges me in the ribs with his elbow, a small smile playing at the edge of his mouth, pulled up more at one corner than the opposing side. "I'll show you around." his voice is soft, as if he doesn't want to alert whoever is in the house of our presence. I nod in agreement, squeezing his hand once in a reassuring gesture. He doesn't seem to be acting like himself, like he's more at home at _my_ house than his own.

"This is the kitchen," Blaine leads me to the tiled room, and leads me to the bathroom, then to the office, and then pulls me into a hallway, where there are three doors. Blaine pushes the door to one open with his foot gently, revealing his room.

There are two full sized beds, one on each side of the room. "Do you share a room?" I ask.

Blaine nods. "Yeah, when Cooper stays here. Ever since he moved out it's been my own."

I release Blaine's hand and wander aimlessly around his room, my fingertips grazing his desktop, where a laptop and math homework sit, along with a copy of "To Kill a Mockingbird,"

Blaine sits on a bed, which leaves me to assume it's his, watching me curiously as I examine his room, crossing his legs as he sits on the black comforter. I return my gaze to his room, eyes lingering on each object, deciding in my head which items are Cooper's, and which are Blaine's. A Dalton Academy uniform is hung on the doorknob of a closet, which obviously belongs to Blaine.

"Did Cooper go to Dalton?" I ask, running a hand down the sleeve of his blazer absentmindedly as I walk by, glancing over my shoulder at Blaine.

"No," he declines. "I moved to Dalton two years ago."

For some reason, that statement surprises me. Maybe it's because for as long as I've known Blaine, he's been a Warbler. "Why'd you move there?"

"I was bullied back at my old school." Blaine says, and I can tell by his tone that he is dismissing the subject as minor, but his eyes say otherwise as I turn to look at him, looking thoughtful as he gnaws on the inside of his cheek.

"For being gay?" I assume softly, crossing the room to sit next to him on his bed.

He nods. "Yeah, I went to a dance with a guy from school, and some kids beat us up." he explains, not meeting gazes with me. "I was bullied before that, but not to that extreme. I just couldn't take it."

We are quiet for a moment, Blaine in thought, and me in shock. Blaine always seems so confident, and really, there isn't much to not like about him. He's nice, he likes sports, he's smart...He's basically got all the qualities of what would make a kid royalty at McKinley. Well, excluding the whole homosexual aspect of his personality. But even I haven't been _assaulted_ for liking boys. There are some asses in Lima, but they've never stooped so low as to _hit_ me for it.

I reach and rest my hand on top of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, although I am actually quite angry at this new piece of information. I wish I could make the kids who made Blaine suffer feel the pain he had to have felt, both emotional and physical, but I can't, not only because I would probably get pummeled in the process, but Blaine probably wouldn't tell me who they were, anyway. I guess it doesn't matter now that he's a student at Dalton, but still. What makes it worse it the fact that he still seems kind if shaken up about it, the way he won't make eye contact with me. I always assume Blaine has such a cool, tough exterior, and that his self confidence can fight off all bullies, but of course, it's naive to think that. I see that now.

"Everything is alright at Dalton, right?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah, everything is fine there." Blaine seems to snap out of it, and looks at me, a small smile on his face, although I can't tell if it's forced or not. "Don't worry about me now, Kurt. No one at Dalton has been ignorant, and I don't think they will be." He moved his hand so his palm faces up, and links his fingers in-between the spaces of mine.

"You'd tell me if they were, right?" I can't let it go. I can't handle the thought of Blaine suffering in silence through what I go through. He doesn't deserve it in the slightest.

Blaine gives me a funny look. "Yeah, of course." he cocks his head to the side. "Seriously, Kurt, it's no big deal. That was almost three years ago. It's all in the past now."

_I wish I could look at my problems that way._

An abrupt thought suddenly pops into my head. I've never told Blaine about last year, when I attempted suicide. The thought of him finding out makes me nauseous, especially recalling when Finn found out. He hasn't really spoken to me since.

I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. Why can't I just forget about it? Why can't my memory be wiped, so that way I don't feel like I'm constantly carrying around this secret?

One thing I know for certain-Blaine _cannot_ find out.

* * *

**_A:N: Thank you all for the reviews and reads! Sorry, I had to combine two of the chapters, because I realized how short Blaine's POV was. Comment your predictions, criticism, anything! :)_**


	12. Chapter 12

***Blaine Anderson***

A knock on my bedroom door interrupts Kurt and I's conversation, making both of us startle. My mom's head pokes into my room, and a warm smile spreads across her face as her gaze settles on Kurt, who shyly returns the gesture.

"Dinner is ready." Mom tells us, and after shooting me a not-so-subtle encouraging look, clicks the door shut as she leaves us.

Kurt and I look at each other, and I'm almost one hundred percent certain we both wear the same nervous expression. We both stand from my bed, and release hands, and part of me wishes we hadn't, but the majority of my brain tells me that it's better to go out there not looking _completely_ infatuated with one another, although that's exactly how it is. Not only would Cooper give me hell for it, but this is the first boyfriend I've brought home, and I don't need my mom to lecture me on 'moving too fast' or God forbid _another_ sex talk.

Kurt and I make our way down the hallway, shooting each other nervous glances the entire way into the kitchen. My mom is reaching into the cupboard for plates, and looks over her shoulder at the sound of our footsteps. "Blaine, dear, would you mind setting the table?" she asks.

Kurt snickers at 'dear,' and I make a face at him as I walk over to her as she hands me the plates. I go around the table, setting a plate in front of each chair, Kurt standing in the middle of the room, looking like he's unsure of where to stand-completely uncomfortable. The longer he's at my house, the more I wish we had eaten at his house. Kurt doesn't know this, but ever since we started dating, I've been freaking out about the day he would come to my house and meet my family. More than freaked out, really. If I'm being honest, on more than one occasion I've sat in bed late at night, staring at the ceiling, worrying about this exact day.

I am grateful that we're having a normal dish to eat for dinner today-mashed potatoes and chicken, and not something totally weird that Kurt would have to choke down. (Thursdays are the Andersons **Try Food You've Probably Never Heard Of** days.)

I sit down at the table, patting the seat on the end, indicating for Kurt to sit there. He crosses the room and sits, and I see his shaking hands before he puts them under the table. I squeeze his knee once reassuringly, mentally willing for this to not turn into the absolute disaster that I've always imagined it would be.

Mom sets the dish of mashed potatoes in the middle of the table, and reaches out her hand to Kurt. "Hi, Kurt, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

Kurt smiles back, shaking her hand. "Same to you." he says thickly, and clears his throat nervously.

My mom finishes setting the table, the food all sprawled around the center, ready to be consumed. As if on cue, the front door swings open, revealing Cooper, who shrugs off his leather jacket upon entering, letting it drop, abandoned on the floor.

Mom gives him a stern look that could quite possibly kill small mammals. Cooper, under the scrutinizing eye of his parental figure, gingerly picks up the jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, then proceeds into the room, whistling some tune. Everyone knows that when your mother gives the mom glare, you sure as hell better do what she wants. It's just how it goes.

Cooper stops in mid-note as his gaze rests on Kurt and I. With a roll of my eyes I address him. "Hey, Coop."

"Hey there, little brother." he gives me a wicked grin, and right then and there, I know that I am screwed. "Is this Kurt?" he asks, and if I didn't know him well enough I'd mistake his tone for innocence, but I know he's plotting to embarrass me to no end. I suddenly regret telling him all those things I have in the past.

"Yep, that would be me," Kurt gives a little wave, and I catch a glimpse of amusement in his eyes, which catches me off guard, and kind of confuses me, if I'm being honest. "You must be Cooper?"

"That would be me." Cooper flashes a tooth-filled smile, pulling out the chair opposite of Kurt. "Blaine has told me _oh so much_ about you."

I resist the urge to face palm, not wanting to give Cooper the satisfaction of knowing he got under my skin.

"Oh really?" Kurt cocks an eyebrow at him, one corner of his mouth tilting up. "Such as?"

I shoot daggers at Cooper across the table while Kurt isn't looking, willing him to not dig himself a deeper hole. I mean, I didn't really tell him much of anything, knowing that this exact scenario was bound to happen. But God knows what that boy can pull out of his head to make me uncomfortable.

Cooper opens his mouth to speak, but my mom's voice interrupts him. "Shush, boys, and get eating." she chides kindly, pointing the spoon at each of us in turn, before placing it into the mashed potatoes.

Each of us scoop our food onto our plates in silence, and for the first couple minutes or so we don't really talk much, me nudging Kurt's leg underneath the table with my foot every so often, him glancing at me momentarily, a mocking smile on his face.

"So, Kurt, how do you like McKinley high?" Mom asks, dabbing her mouth with her napkin.

"It's good." he responds, almost too quickly.

"How did you meet Blaine, if you go there?" Cooper interjects, taking a bite of his potatoes.

I look at Kurt expectantly, wondering to myself how he's going to explain it. Kurt plays with his food for a moment, seeming to contemplate exactly how to answer. "We were both in the bookstore." he says after a moment. "We just kind of ran into each other, and and it went from there." Kurt's tone suggests there's more to the story than what he's saying, which puzzles me, considering that_ is_ how we met, after all. I'll have to question him about it later.

"Oh, how _adorable_." Cooper coos, fluttering his eyelashes, mocking us. I stifle a groan.

"Ignore Cooper." Mom waves him off. "That's very sweet." she smiles at Kurt and I. "He's just bitter that he hasn't found his love yet." Mom elbows Cooper, who scoffs.

"Whatever, mom."

The rest of the dinner is filled with banter like this, and I can't help but beam as I watch Kurt slowly creep out of his shell before my very eyes. By the end of the dinner, he is helping my mom rinse plates, laughing and talking to her about glee club and restaurants around town, and to my dismay, looking at my not-so-flattering baby pictures. Granted, that was Cooper's idea. I hid in the furthest corner of the room, on protest from speaking to any of them until the photo album was put away, or better yet, burned. Unfortunately, neither happened.

"Thank you for the help, Kurt." Mom says. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. I'm sure Blaine wouldn't mind." Mom winks at me, and I blush a little as Kurt crosses the room, looking at me with a smirk on his face, and I make a face at him as we walk to my room, closing the door behind us.

Kurt wanders to into my room, his arms behind his back as she looks at me, looking like he's trying not to laugh.

"Kurt, I swear to god, if you say anything about those pictures of me-"

"But you were so damn _cute!_" Kurt explodes, grinning from ear to ear.

"This is why I don't bring you to my house." I tease, and talk again quickly, my hands getting a little clammy from the lie. But Kurt doesn't need to know why I wouldn't want him to come over. "They're quite embarrassing."

"I think it's adorable." Kurt smiles, linking his arms around my neck, his gaze flickering to my lips momentarily. Before he can do it, I press out lips together, pulling him in by his belt loops, making his breath his in his throat, and sound that gives me more satisfaction than maybe it should.

"Well I wouldn't mind it if this is how we spend our time at my house." I murmur against his lips.

Kurt responds by colliding his lips with my own.

* * *

**A/N: I had a good time introducing Cooper in this chapter. :) I miss him! Thank you Gleekforever12345 for the review! Anything you want to see in future chapters? Anything you like, dislike? All feedback is wonderful! **


	13. Chapter 13

***Finn Hudson***

"Seriously, guys, be honest with me!" Kurt's face is determined as his gaze flickers from Rachel and I, worry etched into his every feature. I glance at Rachel, who glances at me, and we both look at Kurt in unison, not saying anything.

"For God sake, _guys._" Kurt turns his back to us, frustration practically radiating off of him. "I swear, you guys are attached by some invisible string, and send each other secret communications that I obviously _cannot hear!_"

Laughter erupts from Rachel as I watch her from the corner of my eye. "Kurt, breathe," she outstretches her arms, as if to hug him. "I say you should go for it!" her eyes shine brightly, and I knew that was going to be her response.

Kurt had asked us just moments ago if he should tell Blaine he loves him.

I mean, I'm not very good at this kind of thing. When _are_ you supposed to tell someone you love them? I always hear Puck complaining about couples saying they love each other after approximately seventy-two hours, which is understandable. However, Kurt seems to really care about Blaine, and they've been dating for quite a while now.

"I'm sure it won't scare him off," I interject, trying my best at being helpful, or at the very least showing Kurt that I care.

Kurt seems to have an internal debate with himself before responding. "I mean, I'm almost positive Blaine wouldn't go to the extreme as to break up with me, but I don't want to like, freak him out." Kurt is more directed at Rachel as he says this, and I'm kind of grateful.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind helping Kurt, but more often than not, I just feel like my advice is usually the equivalent of receiving words of wisdom from a chair. Not to mention that I've only met Blaine an amount of times that I can count on one hand, so I'm not exactly sure how he would react. Kurt and I don't exactly have slumber parties and stay up until wee hours of the morning chatting about boys, that's for sure. (This is a fact that I've tried explaining to Puck on a number of occasions, to which he dismisses, not really caring about my counterargument.)

"Oh, I'm with you there!" Rachel's reassuring voice snaps me back to reality. "I think you should go for it! Seriously, it's not like Blaine is some mega-jerk who is going to like, laugh at you or something."

Kurt mulls this over for a moment, then gives one hard, determined nod. "You're right. I'm going to do it." His voice is confident as he crosses his arms across his chest. His gaze flickers to Rachel and I. "Honestly though, thank you guys." he sounds more genuine saying this than what I've heard him in the past. "It means a lot."

"It's no big deal, Kurt." Rachel dismisses his thanks with a wave of her hand. She stands, smoothing out the bottom of her dress as she does so. "So, are we going to Breadstix, or what?"

I stand from my perch on the edge of Kurt's bed, and the three of us head out the door, Rachel leading the way, and Kurt behind her as I hold the door.

Kurt's eyes move to me momentarily, and I see a flicker of fear within them, but he turns away and the look is gone just as quickly as it came.


	14. Chapter 14

***Kurt Hummel***

Finn's fingertips tap against the counter top as he sits across from me, his eyes searching the restaurant for the waitress who probably should have brought us our food about a half hour ago.

"I see why we've never came here before." Blaine whispers closely to my ear, making me smile, and a shiver pass through my spine at the feel of his lips grazing my ear as his lips form the words.

"The Lima Bean definitely has better service." I agree. "And better food. And a better atmosphere." I probably could have added a lot more to that list, but I stop there. No need to gross him out.

"So, Blaine," Rachel begins, lifting her head from its perch on Finn's shoulder. He shifts to place his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. "How are things going at Dalton?"

"Pretty good." Blaine smiles warmly at her. "We just recently won our Sectionals, last weekend, actually." his eyes shine with pride, and I nudge him.

"You didn't tell me that." I say, feeling a little left out.

"Looks like we have some competition." Sam nudges Finn, sitting across from me, next to him.

Blaine shoots me an apologetic look out of the corner of his eye, then continues. "Yeah, when is your guys' Sectionals?" his gaze flickers to each of us in turn.

"This weekend!" Rachel squeals in excitement. "And we are going to do just great! I can feel it. Finn and I have the opening ballad." she nudges Finn lightly, who's mouth pulls up slightly at her.

"And Kurt has a great solo in our second song-" Sam adds.

_Dammit._

I was really hoping no one would bring that up, but of course, I'm left disappointed.

I feel the tips of my ears burn red as Blaine looks at me, obviously thrilled at the idea. "You're _serious?_! Kurt, that's great!" he rests his hand on my shoulder, grinning at me, his eyes flecked with every color under the sun, seeming to radiate in the midst of his excitement.

I scratch the back of my neck nervously. "Uh, yeah, it's no big deal." I shrug. "The more we talk about it, the more nervous I get, honestly." I admit.

"Aw, Kurt, you'll be fine!" Rachel waves me off like a fly. "Keep practicing and maybe you'll have a chance at competing with me!" If I didn't know Rachel better, I would probably be offended by this, but instead I smile.

"You are aware that I have to go now, right?" Blaine murmurs quietly close to my ear after the conversation has passed, Rachel and Finn talking among themselves, Finn grumbling about his burger being cold by the time it gets here, and Rachel saying something about the cow's life being ripped from it because Finn couldn't control his carnivorous cravings.

I scoff. "_Right_. I'd prefer if you didn't." I reply, realizing it's only half true. Something inside of me tingles at the thought of Blaine being there to support me, hearing me actually sing for the first time. Sure, we've sang together before, but there's something different about doing it in a performance. It makes it more authentic.

"You'll do great," Blaine sings the last word, leaning in close to me, and God _why_ does he have to do that? I think that he knows how badly he can convince just by looking at me, being so close I can feel like breath on my cheek, get drunk off his scent...

"Table six?" A familiar voice causes me to do a double-take at the waitress who hands us our food.

"Quinn? Since when do you work here?" Finn asks, his eyebrows furrowing together in question.

Quinn Fabray's blonde ponytail swings back and forth as she sets Blaine's pizza in front of him. "My mom told me I needed to find a job, and there isn't much to offer here in Lima." she says, her eyes rolling a little.

"I'm surprised you got out of your cheerios uniform long enough to get in that uniform." Sam teases.

"Ha, ha. Funny. Enjoy." Quinn smiles warmly at each of us, her gaze lingering on Blaine a moment too long, and Oh my God, did she just _wink?_ You have _got_ to be kidding me.

I look incredulously at Blaine, who meets gazes with me in mid bite of his pizza. "What?" he asks around the slice.

"You can't tell me you didn't see that."

"Maybe she has an eye condition?" Sam grins, and Finn snorts, almost spewing his soda out of his nostrils.

Blaine looks around, obviously confused, not to mention oblivious.

"Oh Blaine, don't be modest!" Rachel kicks him under the table, carefully unwrapping her fork to eat her salad. "You're a catch!"

"Watch out, bro, looks like Blaine's the lady killer around here." Sam mutters to Finn, who just rolls his eyes, taking a large bite of his burger.

The rest of the dinner goes pretty much the same way, some friendly banter, some laughs, some teasing. I think Blaine and Sam took a liking to each other, as well, because they got into a heated discussion on who is the best superhero, which as nerdy as it was, I found to be quite adorable.

* * *

I pull into my driveway, letting the car idle. Blaine unbuckles his seat belt, but doesn't make an effort to get out of the vehicle.

"It was awesome to meet your friends today." he says after a moment of us silently listening to a song on the radio end, bobbing our heads along.

"You've met them all before, Blaine."

"Yeah, I know. But I mean, I feel like this time it wasn't as forced. Or awkward." Blaine chuckles, making a face, and not so subtly scooting closer to me, his hand wandering closer to my own that rests on the clutch.

I make the first move for once, resting my palm on his, and leaning forward, so our foreheads are touching. "Yeah, last time was kind of a bust, wasn't it?" I tease, breathless.

"Nonsense. I got to kiss you."

Instead of responding, I kiss him.

It's uncomfortable, because I am leaned over the console, but at the same time it feels like the most natural thing. Blaine snakes his hand around my lower back and pulls me closer to him, almost making me topple over quite ungracefully, but I make it work without him noticing.

Our kiss deepens, our tongues almost seeming to fight for dominance. I'm starting to get lightheaded, not from not breathing, but from the adrenaline coursing through my veins, the feeling of Blaine's jacket balled up in my fist. My heart thrums in my chest. I wonder if he can hear it.

I nearly fly out of my skin when a quick rap on the drivers window interrupts us.

_"Holy shit!_" I gasp, and whip around to see what had scared me half to death.

My father.

His eyebrow is cocked in a way only fathers can do effectively, his gaze flickering to Blaine and I in turn. Blaine ducks his head, blinking a couple times, looking like he wishes he'd melt into the floor. I can't blame him. This isn't the best first impression he could make.

I sheepishly roll down the window as casually as I can manage. I'm not exactly sure how casual you can be when your dad walks out on you getting hot and heavy with your boyfriend, in _his_ car, I may add.

"Hello, Blaine, nice meeting you here." Burt says, slightly sarcastic, but there is a lightness in his voice that informs me that he isn't _that _mad. I breathe out a silent sigh of relief.

Blaine obviously doesn't get the memo, because he starts babbling.

"Mr. Hummel sir, I am so um sorry that I uh this isn't what uh I mean, Kurt is a very nice boy, and I didn't mean for you to meet me like uh this-"

"Blaine,"

"Yes sir?"

"Shut up."

"Alright." Blaine ducks his head again, and I can't help but laugh.

"I think it's time to come inside, Kurt," Dad says, and starts to walk away. "Why don't you come over tomorrow for dinner, Blaine?" he calls.

"It'd be my pleasure." Blaine calls weakly, and Burt enters the house.

Blaine sags against the seat. "I'm _so_ sorry." he says, sounding horrified.

"Blaine," I grin. "You're fine."

"Are you sure?" The smile fades from my face as I see the pure concern on his face.

"Yeah, Blaine, seriously. It's fine. He's just probably going to give me the birds and the bees talk, or something fatherly like that."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kurt." Blaine kisses me swiftly on the cheek before exiting the car without a word, and getting into his own car that he had parked in my driveway, and driving away, out of sight.

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**A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters to write so far :) Let me know what ****_you_**** thought! As always, thanks to the readers/reviewers/subscribers! I love you all 3**


	15. Chapter 15

***Kurt Hummel***

The crowd erupts into a sudden frenzy, heads popping up as people rise to their feet, their hands clapping together with such volume that it sounds almost like a waterfall slapping again the surface of water. The spotlight almost seems to intensify, my eyes squinted as I stare out at the audience, having a hard time believing that that applause is for me. My breathing is uneven, and my heart seems to have lurched its way into my throat. I've never felt so _alive._

I see my father's head among the crowd, a smile spread across his face as he cups his hands around his mouth, and yells out. I can't help but grin back.

Blaine is in the spot next to him, easily recognizable in his Dalton blazer. His smile gleams in the florescent lights. He sees me look at him, and gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up, to which I return the gesture quickly, resisting the urge to run down the steps of the stage and into his arms.

A hand wraps around my waist, bringing me back to my immediate surroundings. Rachel pulls herself into my hip, Finn on her other side, their hands intertwined, both wearing the same look on their faces-joy, triumph, everything I'm feeling.

I glance around at the rest of the glee club members on the stage around me. Tina, Mike, Sam, Quinn, Puck, Artie, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, everyone has smiles upon their faces. Mr. Schue is cheering for us offstage, not yet allowed to come on stage, although our performance is complete. I had performed the closing song for the New Directions. I try not to get my hopes up, but it's hard not to think we did fantastic with the uproar around us. Sectionals is officially over for this year, for better or for worse.

The glee club exits the stage after we all bow and Rachel yells out a couple _"I love yous."_ All of us are whooping and hollering as we go down the hallway.

"We did _awesome!_" Sam grins.

"We have this competition in the bag!" Artie agrees, wheeling alongside him.

Mercedes nudges me as she passes me. "Great job, Kurt! Totally nailed it."

"Yeah," Brittany agrees. "Half the time I couldn't even tell the difference from you and Faith Hill."

"In the best way." Quinn adds quickly, flashing me a small smile, her lips shimmering with lip gloss.

"Yeah, dude. Didn't know you had it in ya." Puck slaps me on the back as he passes me.

I can't help but grin to myself. I've never felt so at home, like I _belonged._ Glee club has opened up something new in my life, something I never would have thought I'd have.

Friendship. A friendship so strong that we are a family, bonded together by song, as cheesy as it may be. I don't care. I'll take the whole cheesecake if this is the price I pay. I wouldn't trade the relationships I've developed with these people over the past year for anything.

The only thing missing now is Blaine.

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"And in first place of the 2014 Lima Ohio Sectionals is...the New Directions!" the announcer proclaims. My peers' voices overcome all other senses as they cheer with glee. I feel Rachel hug me, and see Mr. Schue take the trophy, holding it up triumphantly. A hand from each body reaches out to grab hold of the trophy-one team.

After celebrating for some time after the announcement, we head out to the bus, ready to head back to the school. I walk out of the school, and feel the cool air bite at my arms through the thin long sleeved dress shirt I am wearing, the air getting much more crisp as the year nears its cold months.

I longer back a little bit from the group, staring up at the dark sky as I walk. The moon is half full precisely, the stars twinkling around it, a couple wispy, smoky clouds coiling around them, almost like a blanket.

"Kurt!" a familiar voice calls behind me, accompanied by the sound of shoes slapping against the pavement.

I turn halfway around to see Blaine jogging towards me. I break out into a grin, and before I can prepare, he barrels into me, enveloping me in an embrace. "You did amazingly." he whispers in my ear excitedly, making me grin from ear to ear

"Thank you. I'm so glad you came."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything, silly." Blaine scoffs as he pulls away, although his hands still stay planted on my shoulders, as if keeping me hostage in his hold. I lean in and peck him on the cheek, his skin warm to the touch.

Blaine smiles at me, his hazel eyes dancing with color under the moon. "I love you." he says, then his eyes grow wide, suddenly aware of what he said.

Taken aback, I stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say _'haha, just kidding, Kurt! You should have seen your face!'_ or _'sorry, I didn't mean that.'_ Or something remotely similar. But instead, Blaine's eyes stay confidently locked on my own, patiently awaiting my response.

My mind kicks into overdrive. What will it mean for us if I say it back? I've known for quite some time that I love Blaine, I just have never had the balls to say it out loud. I never really imagined what it would be like to bear the words, exchange the words, what it would really mean.

I feel as though those three words are tossed around too carelessly nowadays. I think it's a real commitment if you say them, like a promise. Something that should only be said if you really and truly mean it.

I feel the pressure threatening to overwhelm me. I try to force my mouth to form the words, but I can't. _Why is it so difficult?_

I know why.

Saying I Love You would mean that I have to be honest with Blaine. Granted, there isn't a rule book for it, in fine print reading the words: **KURT HUMMEL MUST INFORM BLAINE ANDERSON OF HIS SUICIDAL TENDENCIES,** but I feel as though it's a given. If I am going to be committed to Blaine, completely open myself to him, I need to tell him the truth. Otherwise, he doesn't know a large part of who I am. The boy who he claims to love.

I realize too late that while I've been contemplating this, Blaine has been waiting for an answer. He has removed his hands, and is gazing at me, a serious expression on his face.

"I'm sorry if uh, that made things uncomfortable, or weird. I don't want o freak you out, you don't have to say it back-" he starts in a rush.

"No, Blaine. I love you too." I say, then exhale the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Once the words have been released, I feel a sudden happiness, like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. The feeling I've always wanted is now there-the feelings of loving someone, and having them love you equally as much, and expressing it. It isn't describable to someone who hasn't experienced it.

Blaine's eyes light up in obvious jubilance. "Really?"

I chuckle, although I feel my brain ache with impending doom. "Yes, Blaine. I love you."

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**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and reads! It truly means more than I can express :)**


	16. Chapter 16

***** WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING. DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE ARE DESCRIBED HERE, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. *****

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***Blaine Anderson***

Kurt's chest rises and falls underneath my head as we lay, a book propped in front of my face as I lay down on his bed, reading. My head rests on his chest, his soft breaths soothing, the only sound other than my iPod playing quietly on his iPod Dock on his dresser.

Kurt's eyes are closed, almost falling into a light sleep, judging by his deep breathing.

"Blaine," Kurt says. I finish the sentence I am reading, then close the book and settle it next to me on his bed. When he doesn't continue to speak, I sit up slightly, propping myself up onto my elbow to look at him. He is gnawing on the inside of his cheek, looking distraught.

"What is it?" I ask softly, troubled by the look Kurt is wearing.

Kurt intakes a shaky breath, then sits up, dangling his legs over the edge of his bed, his back to me.

I move so I am sitting next to him, peering at him curiously. "Kurt, what's the matter?" I grab his hand in effort to calm him.

A panicked thought can't help but cross my mind. _What if he doesn't love me?_

It's such a stupid, angsty, selfish thing to assume. It isn't as if all Kurt's life does is revolve around his relationship with me. However, ever since he told me he loved me at Sectionals, he's been apprehensive to say it back, as if it's a lie. I do my best to ignore it, but in actuality, it's what nags at me day in and day out.

"I don't want to ruin our perfect day." Kurt says after a long moment, shaking his head, as if clearing the negative thoughts out of his mind, convincing himself not to voice his worries. This is a gesture he does often. It makes me wonder what really goes on in Kurt's mind.

Kurt, generally speaking, is happy around me. He smiles, he laughs, he is animated while speaking. But I'm not an idiot. I can tell when he is hiding something away, when he replaces a real smile with a fake one. Of course, it isn't an all the time thing, but it happens often enough that it makes me worry about him. I can see bits and pieces of Kurt slipping through whatever barrier he has built up around himself.

I've almost asked him numerous times, more times than I can count on both hands, but I never really come out and ask him what he's hiding. I've hinted at it, subtly asked, but Kurt strategically evades the questions.

Lately, however, it seems inevitable.

There's almost an invisible wall between us, keeping us apart. Whatever the reason behind it is, I don't like it. Kurt is the best thing in my life, the thing I look forward to after a long day, the one thing that's for sure. And I _can't_ lose him.

"Don't worry about it," I say, coming back to reality, where Kurt is avoiding my gaze. "Seriously, what is it?"

Kurt responds with a curt shake of his head, more determined this time. "It's nothing." he plasters one of his almost-perfected fake smiles onto his face. If I didn't know him as well as I do, it could pass for the real deal.

I open my mouth to speak, but Kurt interrupts me by pressing his lips firmly against my own, colliding in a clash of teeth and tongues.

His palm rests on my thigh, his other holding the back of my head. I wrap a hand around his waist and pull him close to me, breathing in his scent, savoring every moment as if it's our last.

I am the one to pull away, our foreheads leaned together, our arms still not moving their position. "Kurt," I murmur. "Please, what's bothering you?"

I swear Kurt swears under his breath, too low for even me to hear it, and I am close enough to see every color in his eyes, the freckles on his nose, the cracks in his lips.

Kurt pulls away from me, and stands, pacing around the room, looking utterly defeated. He runs a hand through his hair, down his face, behind his neck. It's nerve-wrecking to even _watch_ him.

I let him gather his bearings, not wanting to push him further than what he wants.

Really, it could be anything. His mother, someone at school, _anything._ I haven't known Kurt forever, there are still things that are mysteries about him. Something could have happened before we met, or just recently.

"If I can help, I want to." I add for good measure, not raising my voice above a whisper, as if I'll break Kurt's thought process.

Kurt stops in the middle of his room, his eyes red rimmed as he stares at me, biting his trembling lip. I start to stand up to approach him, but he holds his arm out to stop me. "I need a minute. I'll tell you, I promise. It's...It's just a lot to go over." he says. I nod solemnly, my knee bouncing with anxiety that grows with each passing second.

After what seems like an eternity. Kurt begins speaking, his voice low and pained. "Blaine, I've been keeping something from you. It's not that I cheated, or anything like that." he adds the last part quickly, as if afraid I would through accusations at him. I never really had a suspicion that Kurt was cheating on me, but it's nice to hear, all the same.

"It was before I met you, before I came to McKinley High." he continues, stuffing his hands into his sweater pockets-well, my sweater pockets. He had borrowed one of my Dalton Academy hoodies.

I nod, swallowing the lump that is forming in my throat, my hands clammy.

"It's not that I kept it from you on purpose, really. It's just that.. that it's not something that I like to bring up. It's embarrassing, and generally, people tend to look at you differently when they learn something like this about someone. Like with pity, or disgust, or whatever else the hell they're feeling-"

"Kurt," I interrupt. "If this is about your mom-"

"It's not about my _mom_, Blaine!" I jump when Kurt's voice rises with frustration. "Last year, I tried to.. kill myself."

I blink at him, my brain not processing what's been said. "What?" my voice is small.

Kurt turns away from me, a sound coming from his throat that slightly resembles a choked back sob, indicating that my response was not one he was hoping for.

"I shot myself. In this room. With a gun that my dad used to keep in his closet. Right on this bed." he is talking fast, hysteria threatening to pour over him in vast amounts. He clambers to the bed and almost rips the comforter from beneath me, and suddenly, as if they just appeared, I see faded stains in his bed sheets.

_Blood._

Feeling queasy and faint, I stand, staring at it, and then at Kurt's temple, where a scar is, almost hidden by Kurt's askew hair. Tears flow from his eyes, and he shakes violently, coming undone. "Blaine, I I I just couldn't do it. I hated myself. Everyone hated _me._ I was consumed with hate for everything. For the human race. For every_ goddamned thing on this earth._" he is yelling, falling to his knees, placing his head against his thighs, words barely comprehensible. "And then I was numb. And didn't care. I found myself hoping a meteor would just crash through my ceiling and kill me. And it never did. So I did it. And sometimes I still want to. Just to do it. There's this _hole_," he grips his chest. "This hole inside of me, that is just always numb. Sometimes it seems falsely filled, but then it caves in again and I just want to give up. And and and..." he stops, unable to speak anymore, sobs racking his body.

I kneel onto the floor next to him, and hold his shaking shoulders, blinking back the tears of my own. I can't handle seeing him like this, seeing him in so much pain, so much guilt, so much distress.

"Kurt, I'm here, it's okay." I rock him back and forth, knowing that I shouldn't try to talk to him about it now. He's too emotionally drained, releasing emotions that he's bottled up inside for far too long. It;s something that undoubtedly needs to be discussed, but not now.

Right now, he just _needs_ someone.

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**A/N: **

**Thank you for the votes, reads, and comments! They give me motivation to write :)**

**Also, I know this chapter was pretty heavy, it was kind of hrd for me to write, for personal reasons. For all readers, just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, or are having suicidal thoughts, I'm here to talk, and even if it doesn't seem like it, someone DOES care about you. And remember, like for Kurt, it does in fact get better. 3**


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